F-Bomb, F-Bomb F-Bomb

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Dear MF Diary,

The best thing happened today. Franny POCKET DIALED me while at school. I answered, assuming she was ill or needed something.

“Hello?” Silence. I could hear her laughing. I tried a couple more times. “Helloooo Franny?”

Then I heard her talking.

“Yeah, she’s got WAY better style than Kylie.” More laughter. More gossiping. Everything sounded normal. A boy walked up and greeted them. “Oh HEEEY Michael…” Then: more conversation, punctuated with about 27 f-bombs. More people laughing at something she was saying.

She sounded a lot like she does at home. It was nice to hear her with her friends around her. I took the stance a while ago that I am not going to be a drawer rifler or a diary reader. I was raised like that, and I did not feel like my room was my own. Which, I get it. Technically it’s not, but it’s nice to feel you have your own space.

I am planning to take Franny to the mall tonight alone as a reward for making up the homework she missed on her father’s solid week with her.

Strudel is bummed, since she loves the mall too, but I promised her some special mom alone time on Sunday. She had some good news of her own yesterday–the school has finished examining half of the advanced placement test she took in October, and they saw her in the office and blurted to her that she did very well. She was a smug and beaming Strudel after school yesterday.

My good news is that I am taking the last two weeks of December off work, which will make school break MUCH easier. I think we will all need some cozy nesting.

I have had high highs and low lows in the past couple of days. Seeing my mother’s testimony as evidence on his side saddened me, but did not really surprise me. I felt pretty happy last night, which may not have been conveyed well by what I wrote yesterday. I just feel determined, but there’s not hopelessness. I wish I could show you the court paperwork. It’s very dull but there’s also an elegance that shines through there. I admire economical, persuasive writing.


Me and Franny at Stanley Park, B.C., 2003

5 thoughts on “F-Bomb, F-Bomb F-Bomb”

  1. You are a totally bad ass mom and I’m not afraid to admit that I have copped your style, including allowing my 6-year-old to drop all the f-bombs she wants. She’s getting pretty good at spotting “bullshit” and stuff that’s “fucked up.” I’m delighted with her progress. Franny is so lucky to have you in her corner no matter how this all turns out. She will always appreciate that.

  2. I think it is much more responsible parenting to allow children to learn the CORRECT usage of “swear words” rather than make them verboten (and accept all the inevitable over-usage that comes along with the territory).

    We had our nephew (who we raised to the age of six while his mother got sober) with us at Target when he was about 2/2.5 and he was in the cart with his legs dangling…the woman in line behind us kept running her cart into his legs while I had stepped aside to unload the cart…he looked dead at her and said “Stupid Bitch”…I had no choice but to respond with “Well, he DID use the term correctly”. It was FABULOUS.

  3. Oh, and also, glad to hear you are holding up well with all the “impending doom” and whatnot of the week…looking forward to hearing how it goes in court!

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